


The First Real Date

by afteriwake



Series: A Past Love [23]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock attempts to do something romantic but it backfires and Amy suggests breakfast out. They finally get to have a real date, just like normal couples, and it turns out to be pretty darn good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Real Date

Amy awoke to the smell of something burning and the screech of a fire alarm. She threw off her sheets and blankets and ran out into the kitchen, followed closely by Mrs. Hudson. The kitchen was in a cloud of smoke but so far she couldn’t tell what was on fire. She opened up one window and Mrs. Hudson threw open the other. “Sherlock!” Amy called out.

There was a sound of coughing from the kitchen. “I was attempting to cook,” he said from amidst the cloud of smoke.

“Dear heaven, what were you trying to cook?” Mrs. Hudson asked.

“Bacon. I had thought since Amelia cooked so much I might return the favor,” he said.

Amy smiled despite herself. She picked up one of his files and walked into the kitchen, waving the file back and forth to clear the air. “You lovely moron,” she said, giving him a quick kiss before fanning more of the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson shook her head and went back to her part of the flat. Once the kitchen was aired out Amy got a good look at the kitchen. She was thankful she had cast iron cookware, because not only had he burned the bacon he’d burned eggs and sausage too.

“I did not do very well,” he said.

“But it really is the thought that counts,” she said.

“I doubt it’s even edible.”

“Well…no, it’s not,” she said. “But the fact that you wanted to cook breakfast for me really makes me feel loved. You know what? Let’s go out for breakfast, just you and me. This can be our first actual date.”

He nodded. “I’ll get rid of all this.”

“Come here, you,” she said. He moved over to her and she threw her arms around his neck. “You are never allowed to cook again. Understood?”

“Understood,” he said with a slight grin.

“Good.” She kissed him softly, letting it linger. She was smiling when she pulled away. “I’ll clean up. I know it takes you longer to get dressed because you don’t ever leave the house without looking impeccable. I’m just going to throw on jeans and a shirt and a jumper.”

“I can look less than impeccable,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

“I actually own more than just suits and dress shirts and slacks. I just don’t wear them often. John convinced me to buy them as camouflage when I needed to look less striking.”

“Then you dress down today too. I’m still going to clean up. I need to leave my pans to soak.” He left, and she got about cleaning up, putting some soap in her pans and running hot water into them to let them loosen the burnt food. She was going to need to season them again. Then she went to her room and changed into jeans, a T-shirt and a cable-knit jumper. He was in the common room when she returned, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. “You look very nice like this,” she said approvingly. 

“You haven’t seen me with a case where I have to blend in with my homeless network yet,” he said with an amused grin. He grabbed his greatcoat. “I can look downright atrocious if I need to.”

She chuckled. “I’d still kiss you.”

“Even if I reeked?”

“I may plug my nose first.” She grabbed her jacket and they both slipped them on. He offered her his arm and she took it, and they left the flat. It was cold outside, and he used his free hand to flip the collar of his coat up. They walked to the restaurant down the street that Amy went to for breakfast sometimes and walked in. There weren’t a lot of people there, so they got a nice table by the window. Sherlock took a menu but Amy just asked for a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice.

“How often do you come here?” Sherlock asked, setting the menu down.

“Once a week for breakfast, usually after you’ve left early in the morning doing God knows what,” she said with a grin. “I figure if you get your own breakfast somewhere else I should too. I love the French toast here. They usually add powdered sugar and berry sauce for me free of charge, probably because I tip so well.”

“I think I just want eggs, bacon and toast,” he said.

“Well, I’m getting my French toast,” she said with a grin as her drinks arrived. She pushed the coffee over to him. He raised an eyebrow and she smiled. “I know you well.”

“Yes,” he said, taking the coffee. “Apparently.”

“You know me very well too. I saw cheese on those eggs, because some of it wasn’t burnt. And I know you used the turkey sausage and turkey bacon and not the regular stuff I cook for you.” He grinned slightly at that. “I can be observant too, you know.”

“I know.” The waitress came back for their orders, asking Amy if she wanted her regular order. Amy nodded, and Sherlock placed his own order. She left them again. “So, since this is our first normal date, what do you propose we do?”

“Talk,” she said. “Eat. Go home and do other stuff.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure what to talk about. I haven’t been awake long enough to talk about my day, and you already know everything there is to know about my next job.”

“My case is finished, so there isn’t anything relevant for me to talk about,” he said. “Are we really so boring?”

“Maybe,” she replied. “I know there’s something I don’t want to talk about, but we can.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Rory’s mum asked me to go to Leadworth. She hasn’t seen me since I went to visit his grave after you found me, and she misses me. She seems to have accepted the fact I’ve moved on since that call on Christmas day, since she said you could come too. She did love me like a daughter growing up, and I suppose she thinks now that she’s lost Rory I’m all she’s got left.”

“When does she want you to visit?”

“This weekend,” she said. “I told her that I might not be available, and she said if I wasn’t then the weekend after.”

“I could be free this weekend,” he said. “So you wouldn’t have to go alone.”

“Then I’ll call her and tell her I can come visit. She offered to let me stay at her home, but my mother has said if I come visit she wants me to stay with her and my dad.”

“I’d say stay with your parents,” he replied before taking a sip of his coffee. “It most likely wouldn’t be as hard.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” She paused. “Mum is surprised we’re dating. I don’t know whether she approves or not, but she’s said you’re welcome too. She has insisted you get the guest bedroom, though. I told her that was fine. It’s not like we’re sleeping together.”

He nodded. “There is that.”

“So I’ll call them both and tell them we’re coming to Leadworth for the weekend,” she said with a nod. “So now what do you want to talk about?”

“Why don’t we talk about plans for the day, then go from there?” he suggested.

“All right,” she said with a smile. They began to talk, and when their food arrived they’d decided to spend the day exploring the neighborhood shops and then John called and said Molly wanted them over for dinner and they agreed. The day went by quickly, and after good food and time with friends they made their way back home.

“I had a rather nice day,” Sherlock said as they got back into the living room. “We should try and do this more often.”

“Yeah,” Amy said with a smile. “Maybe if they can find a babysitter who isn’t me we could do a double date with John and Molly.”

“It was nice of you to offer to babysit Thursday so they could go out.”

“Yeah, well, they deserve to have a good date, too.”

“So we had a good date?” he asked.

“We had a fantastic date,” she said, giving him a kiss. “Now I’m going to clean my pans and season them, and then I think I’m going to read for a while. The one thing that’s caused me great delight is finding all these books that got published while I was gone. I’m always finding something good to read.”

“I’ll do the dishes,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. He nodded. “All right. I suppose I can just read out here and season them when you’re done. I’ll go grab my book.” She went back to her room and picked up the book she was reading and brought it back out. Sherlock was already in the kitchen, and she curled up on the sofa and began to read. After a little while he came and sat next to her. “What are you reading?”

“A romance novel by Jayne Ann Krentz,” she said. “It’s at the naughty bits right now. But this book has a murder mystery plot as well, so I just skim past the naughty stuff until the mystery plot comes back in.”

He shook his head. “I know when Molly reads a romance novel those are her favorite parts, according to John.”

“Well, I’m not getting sex right now, so I would prefer just to avoid thinking about it.” She looked at him. “And I’m not saying that to put pressure on you or anything. When it’s the right time it’ll happen. I’m willing to wait.”

“That’s good to know,” he replied. He reached over and picked up one of his books and began to read as well. After a few moments she put her book down and snuggled closer to him. “Are you cold?”

“A bit, yeah. Good thing Mrs. Hudson closed the windows after the place aired out or else we’d probably be freezing.”

He nudged her forward slightly, pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and then put it over the two of them before putting an arm around her shoulders. She grinned and leaned her head on him, forgetting about the book for a moment. “Comfortable?”

“Very,” she said with a slight nod. “I’m thinking it might not be a bad idea to do this more often.”

He chuckled slightly. “You like to be close to me,” he said.

“Yeah. Part of it is that I’m continuously surprised you let me, and the other part of it is that I like to be held and cuddled with and stuff. It started with you when we were teens and it’s kind of been that way ever since.”

“I didn’t let women get close to me after you. Many tried, but it didn’t feel the same.”

“I’m the only woman you’ve ever been with?” she asked.

“Yes. One came close, but it never went that far.”

“Tell me about her,” she asked.

“Her name was Irene Adler. She was a dominatrix by trade. She had pictures of a compromising nature of a royal, and I was tasked by Mycroft to get them back. She became entangled in my life for a time, and if she had been more insistent and I had not had such a wall up she may have succeeded in bedding me.”

“I bet the sex would have been very interesting,” she said with a chuckle. “I don’t mind experimenting a bit, but I don’t think I could ever be a dominatrix. I wonder why she chose that as a career.”

“I never asked,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Do you still hear from her?”

“Occasionally she will send me a text. If you hear the sound of a whip, that would be her.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “She’s the one who did the moaning sound when you got a text! John told me about her.”

“I changed it after I saved her life,” he said. “It was a distinctive one that did not do well for me being in hiding.”

“I should be jealous, but I’m actually not,” she said.

“That’s surprising. She’s jealous of you.”

“Really?” she asked.

“After I rescued her we had a night where we talked. It was probably the most honest conversation I’d had with her. She said she wished she’d been you, and that she had that kind of pull over me even all those years later. She hasn’t texted me since we started dating, but I almost wish she would. I wonder what her thoughts on our relationship would be.”

“If she does, show me the text. I’m kind of curious myself.”

“I will.” He shifted slightly. “You’re really not jealous of her?”

“Nope,” she said. “She may intrigue you. She may like you. She may even love you. But I had a daughter who did her thesis on you and I know that you have loved me since you were seventeen years old, and _only_ me.” She lifted her head up and grinned. “So I am secure in my knowledge that no other woman is going to get you.”

He chuckled. “You know so much about my future while I’m left in the dark.”

“Not really. All I know is we get married. I don’t know how you ask me, and I don’t know when or where it happens. I don’t know a thing about our wedding. I don’t know if we have children together. There’s a lot I don’t know.” Her smile dimmed slightly. “The only thing I know is you die first, and I die of a broken heart not that long after you. River assured me it’s a long time before that happens, but I don’t know dates or anything like that. I loved Rory, and I will love him until I die, but your death…I don’t want to go on after that. That’s the only thing I know for certain.”

He held her tighter. “But it’s a far time off,” he said.

She nodded. “We’re both old when it happens,” she said as she set her head back on his shoulder.

“Then we’ll just live our lives to the fullest,” he said before pressing a kiss into her hair. “And we’ll make every day count.”

“Romantic words from you,” she said. “You do have the soul of a poet, buried deep down.”

“And you’re the only person to bring it out,” he said.

“I feel special for that.”

“You should. There is quite a bit I would do for you that I won’t do for anyone else.”

She shifted slightly, moving up more and kissing him softly. He cupped her cheek and tangled her fingers in her hair as the kiss continued. When she pulled away she rested her forehead against hers. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes. You were my first love, and you’ll be my last. You can’t get any better than that.”

“I love you too, Amelia Pond. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

“Good.” She kissed him again, and it was a long time later that she pulled away from him and settled into snuggling with him. The dishes could wait. This was _so_ much more important.


End file.
